My Aunt Kicked Me Out of My Childhood Home After My Parents Died, Just as I Left Crying, a Black Limo Pulled Up
Grief doesn’t always hit like a lightning strike. Sometimes, it drifts in slowly—through a late-night voicemail, a sterile hospital waiting room, or the quiet stare of two police officers who can’t quite meet your eyes. My name is Rachel. I’m nineteen. Last fall, my parents died in a car crash. One moment, they were on…